


Troubled Souls

by missbloom



Category: Hannibal (TV), Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Wendigo, Will is slowly losing it, rating is for future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbloom/pseuds/missbloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alana goes to the Winchesters for help with Will and his wendigo problem, only to have her life as she knows it swept out from underneath of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Call for Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alana seeks help from "professionals" when Will gets out of hand.

“ ** Wendigo ** _ : The Wendigo is a demonic half-beast creature appearing in the legends of the Algonquian peoples along the Atlantic Coast and Great Lakes Region of both the United States and Canada _ .”

  
  


Will's words rang in her ears, the rise and fall of his voice making her heart thump in fear of what was becoming of the incarcerated man. He was shaking in his orange jumpsuit, head down as his hands rested atop each other on the metal table he was chained to. He was muttering to himself with his eyes pressed closed, shaking his head side to side gently, curls going astray.

Hannibal had just been forced to leave the room, Will having screamed at the man's appearance, alerting the guards. Alana had been at his side in a heartbeat, ignoring the rules about staying three feet away from the prisoner at all times, “Will? Calm down, he's gone. Hannibal's gone.”

Chest heaving, Graham covered his face with his hands, sobbing into them, “Why is he here?  _ Why is he here? _ ”  The strain on his voice was immense; Hannibal's presence had shook him to the bone, for reasons Alana didn't comprehend.

“He's your psychiatrist, Will,” the woman ran her hand soothingly up and down his back, noticing how she could feel the rise and dips of his ribs, making a note to talk to Chilton about his nourishment. “Why did you scream when he walked in?”

“Couldn't you see it?” his hands fell back to the table, sunken eyes peering at the woman desperately, “please tell me you saw what he was.”

Alana's locks shifted on her shoulders as she shook her head, “I don't know what you're talking about, Will... I saw a man who had come in here to help you, only to get ushered out when you started yelling.”

Hairs raised on her arms as the man smiled and let out a quiet, barely audible giggle before speaking, “Of course not, of course you didn't  _ see _ ,” his voice was rising in anger, “ _ you  _ _** never ** _ _ see! _ ”

Standing, Alana turned her back and returned to her seat across from him, taking the opportunity to blink away building tears while he couldn't see her face. Settling on the edge of the chair, she rested her elbows on the lip of the table and spoke quietly, “Tell me what you saw, Will.”

Another bout of laughter from him, “Why? What's the point? You're not going to believe me. 'It's all in your head,' you'll tell me. 'Here, take this anti-psychotic, take this anti-inflammatory, take this, take that.'” A choked sob came out of him now, eyes darting around nervously as his anger returned, “ _ Why won't any of you believe me? _ ”

There was a lump in Alana's throat; she swallowed, “I want to believe you, Will,” a beat as she wiped away a betraying tear, “tell me what you saw.”

The interrogation room was quiet as Will contemplated the offer, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his stubble. “I saw... the  _ beast _ . Black skin providing a paper-thin layer over his bones, dark antlers protruding from his head, scraping the ceiling...” he turned his head off to the side, glancing to where Hannibal had entered. “The wendigo.”

 

* * *

As soon as Alana arrived home she went right to her computer, searching for anything she could find about the creature Will had mentioned. She had heard of wendigos before, but her knowledge on them was limited.

Everything clicked together when she found the following:

_ The creature or spirit could either possess humans or be a monster that had physically transformed from a person. It is particularly associated with cannibalism. _

Sitting back in her chair, Alana blinked at the screen and gave a small nod, "Well, no wonder he brought it up…"

 

* * *

"I think you need a Winchester, ma’am," taking her research a step further, Alana drove up to the nearest Algonquian reserve and asked to speak with someone about Will’s belief, hoping they could give her some sort of detailed story or statement that she could retell to Will and explain how these creatures were just folklore.

This wasn’t what she had expected. "A Winchester? Like.. a gun?" Firearms made Alana uneasy ever since she was a child; there had been an incident one night when a man had broke into their house and shot her mother, almost killing her. The event had set Alana's fear in stone.

A chuckle pulled her back to the present, eyes focusing on the man's hand as he reached into a box, pulling out a small card. “Here, call this number, leave a message, and he might get back with you about it.” Alana took the small piece of stock paper and read its front,  _ Dean Winchester, _ along with a phone number scribbled underneath of it; the back was blank.

 

* * *

"Hello, I’m Dr. Alana Bloom," always completely professional when calling anyone nowadays, "I would like to talk to a Dean Winchester regarding…wendigos..." The word rolled off her tongue slowly, an odd, prickly feeling crawling across her skin as it did so. "Um... I live in Baltimore, Maryland, and I’d be willing to meet up with you to discuss this in person. Thank you, and I hope to hear back from you soon."

With a sigh Alana hung up and rested her elbows on the table, cradling the phone in her hand as she glanced at Will's numerous dogs that were scattered about the kitchen floor. She could feel her thoughts starting to race, and the mutts dozing around her provided a sense of calmness. 

It wasn’t until later that night, after dinner and a shower, after letting the dogs out and snuggling into the warmth and comfort of her bed, that she allowed Will to fully enter her mind. He came over her quickly, all his words and actions, stories from prison, the way Chilton treated him making her stomach roll. (She had tried reporting the caretaker for prisoner neglect, but of course the man made sure her accusation didn’t get far.)

Will’s court date was a few weeks away, and up until a month or so ago, he had seemed stable enough to provide a solid defense against himself. Now, Alana feared the worst. She feared he was losing his mind.

He had suddenly started pacing along the edges of his cell during one of their twice weekly appointments, muttering and fidgeting with his hands, flinching at every unexpected noise heard from his neighbors’ cells. “Will? You doing okay?” He ignored her question and skipped right to the topic of Hannibal, asking if they caught him yet, if Jack had realized his Chesapeake Ripper had been under his nose this entire time.

All Alana could do was shake her head and say, “No, they haven’t,” before delving into a discussion on why Will believed Dr. Lecter had done all this. It was the same thing almost every visit now, Will refusing to speak about anything else, not even his dogs.

Winston joining her on the bed snapped Alana from the memory, her fingers finding his thick fur as he curled against her side. More dogs filled the empty space around her, enveloping her in what felt like a protective cocoon.

Too bad they couldn’t protect her from Will though, and Will from himself.

 

* * *

Woolen beanie pulled over her ears, Alana sat on the cold slats of a park bench not too far from her home, nursing a hot cup of tea as she waited for Dean Winchester to arrive.

The man had called her back the night before, saying that they -- him and his brother -- were in the area and were willing to meet up with her. They agreed on a time and location and promised to see each other soon.

She sat her hands in her lap now, the heat from her drink warming her thighs, and peered around trying to see if she could find Dean from the image of him she had of him in her mind's eye; tall, rough looking, shaved head, and heavily built, all conclusions jumped to by just the sound of his voice.

To her left she picked up the sound of a grumbling car engine, the noise getting louder and louder as the vehicle grew closer. It wasn't exactly the most pleasant thing to hear first thing in the morning, her face scrunching slightly as her ears rang.

Alana raised an eyebrow when the car, an old Impala by the looks of it, parked along the curb right in front of her, the woman shifting to cross her legs and look around, making sure there were other people nearby just in case.

Lowering her head and tilting it to the side a bit, she reached a gloved hand up to scratch under her hat and tried to watch the two men get out of the car while making it seem like she wasn't,  _ Is this them? The Winchesters?  _ Her heart skipped when they glanced at her direction, the short haired one nodding before walking around the front of the car, “You Alana Bloom?”

That voice... he was definitely the man she talked to on the phone. His looks though were not what she had pictured, save for the tall part; with a chiseled face, fit body, and short-cut hair, Alana couldn't help but be attracted to his appearance, a soft heat rising to her cheeks as he stepped closer, her eyes taking in the details of his face and all the freckles that resided there. Shifting her gaze for a second, she concluded that his brother wasn't too bad, either.

With a blink those thoughts were gone, her mind shifting into professional mode as she stood to introduce herself, peering up at the green-eyed Winchester, only coming up to his chin even in her heeled boots, “Yes, and you must be Dean. Thank you for coming.” The two shook hands and she turned to the even taller man, the one with long hair and a baggy brown coat, the one who introduced himself with his name a kind smile, “Nice to meet you, Sam.”

Settling back down on the bench, Alana pulled a leg up under her so she could face them, Dean sitting across from her, Sam leaning against the back. “Oh,” going to her coat pocket, she pulled out Dean's card and handed it over, “I got this from an Algonquian tribe member that I visited a few days ago.” The two nodded, waiting for her to start her story.

“I called you because my friend and former colleague Will Graham has been mentioning… wendigos… recently, and I’m starting to get worried.” The boys simply stared at her. "See," she shifted in her seat, "Will is currently an inmate in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and he has his trial for his alleged crimes next month and we need him as stable as possible for it."

She paused as a gust of wind blew curls into her face, raising a hand to brush it away before she continued, "he’s being treated for encephalitis, but I don’t think he’s keeping up on his anti-inflammatory medication, or any of his medication for that matter. Every time Will's official psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, joins us, he'll start panicking and screaming, or just completely collapse into himself and start muttering incoherently, usually under his breath."

“And what do you want us to do?” Dean looked from her, up to his brother, and back, “We're not psychologists, we can't... give him therapy.”

“I was hoping you could talk to him, maybe explain to him how wendigos are merely folklore, that Hannibal is just… _Hannibal_. Will won’t listen to me anymore, thinks that I’m not on his side, but maybe he’ll listen to experts like you two.”

“Well, to start with,  we're not \--” Dean was stopped mid-sentence by a slap to his shoulder and an intense glare from his brother, who decided to answer for him.

“We'll see what we can. Do you think you could get us some visitor passes to Baltimore State? So we can talk to Will ourselves?”

“Sure. I could go right now, if you'd like,” she glanced at her watch: 9am. Chilton should be there, and it might take her a while to persuade him. She'd also give Will a quick hello, see how he was doing today.

“Great,” Dean flashed her a wide smile as he stood, Alana noting the crinkles by his eyes signaling that it was genuine, “we're staying down at Motel 6 on West North Ave, room 14. Just give us a call there.”

“Will do,” she rose and shook their hands once more, thanking them again for helping before saying goodbye and walking about to her home, hoping that maybe these men could be the pivot point that Will's future would turn around.


	2. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, Hannibal, and Alana have dinner together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank Jen (@delecterable) for convincing me to update this fic. I have two more chapters planned out as of right now!

Alana jumped as her cell phone vibrated across her desk, startling her out of the little haze she was in from working all day. Glancing at the ID, her stomach knotted as she read that it was Dean, “Please tell me you have good news.”

“Hello to you too. And that depends on what you consider good news; we talked to Graham. He was interested in why were there -- dare I say glad? -- but he didn’t really give us any new info.”

Will was talking to them. After weeks and weeks of almost near silence, he was finally engaging in conversation again. It was a small accomplishment, but it made Alana happy nonetheless. “All that matters is he’s talking to you. He believes that you guys are there to help him, I bet. Which you are.” The woman closed her eyes and allowed herself a small smile, feeling some of her stress lift.

“Oh, and you know that episode you told us about? Where they had to escort Lecter out? We got to witness that first hand.” Alana’s eyes popped open; maybe it wasn’t really an accomplishment after all, not if Will had another episode. “Doc came for a visit, I guess. As soon as Will caught sight of him, started screaming his head off. Went over to one of the corners of his cell and sat there shakin’ until the guards came and told Lecter he had to go, probably shouldn’t come back.”

There was a lump in Alana’s throat, her nerves itching to hang up and just go visit Will right now. Dean wasn’t done though, and continued with a sigh, “Hard to see the poor guy so shook up. He stopped talking to us after that and we had no choice but to leave. Lecter was in the lobby so we chatted with him for a few minutes. He’s, um, and interesting guy, to say the least. A little intimidating, honestly.”

Alana nodded in agreement, “He does have that effect on people. Comes off as very dominant, which has its benefits as well as its disadvantages.”

“Anyway, he mentioned you two are having dinner together this weekend? Suggested that Sammy and I join you guys so we can all have a little get together and discus Will. That cool with you?”

“Yeah, definitely. If Hannibal’s not going to be allowed back in to see Will, he’s going to want to updates,” resting her elbow on her desk, Alana rubbed at her worried forehead, feeling a slight ache forming. “Thanks for going today, guys. I really appreciate it.”

“Anything to help,” a second or two of silence, “um, Dr. Bloom? Would you.. do you want to go -- ow! What the hell Sam?”

Alana let out a small chuckle and shook her head, “I have to go now, Dean. Someone is beeping in. I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, of course. See you then.”

* * *

“The Winchester brothers seem to be very nice gentlemen, don’t you think?” Hannibal stood in front of his stove as he sautéd their meat, rabbit, for that evening, Alana standing off to the side with a beer after having done her part by helping dice the shallots and crush the garlic.

“I’m glad I was able to find them. The fact that Will would even talk to them speaks plenty. And you have to admit, there’s a certain charm to them, which helps. They know what they’re doing, and they’re doing it well.”

“Speaking of Will, how is he? I can’t help but feel like I have done something wrong, hearing him shout out like that. Has he gotten back on his medication?”

“I’m afraid not, no. Refuses to take them,” a small laugh came from her and she looked down at her drink, “the guards will slide him the tray through the little slot in his door and he’ll set it on the table, drink the water, and then flick the pills at the guards’ faces.”

Hannibal let out a small chuckle, “That is one way to protest.” A whoosh of steam as he poured some white wine into the skillet, a cloud appearing before him. “I do hope he changes his mind soon. Even without the stress Jack had put onto him, our poor Will still has the weight of a court date on his shoulders. That encephalitis could flare up at any moment.”

Alana took a large swallow of her beer, just the thought of Will’s trial setting her on edge. Mouth open to reply, her words froze on the tip of her tongue as Hannibal’s doorbell rang out. “Oh, they’re early,” she set her glass down and starts to untie her apron, “I’ll go let them in.”

Moving through the halls of Hannibal’s home swiftly, something she could do with her eyes closed, Alana arrived at the front door just after the doorbell chimed a second time. Pulling it open, she gave Dean a warm smile, eyes flicking over his shoulder to see Sam still coming up the drive.

He came inside, eyes sweeping over the form-fitting, aquamarine dress Alana was wearing, possibly lingering on her starfish necklace or just below, she couldn’t tell; his voice was soft, caring as he shook her hand, “You look good.”

Heat flushed across her cheeks and replied to his compliment with a simple hello. Sam stepped in behind Dean then, almost having to duck to miss the door frame, “and hello to you too, Sam.” She shut the door, “You guys are early. It’ll be about 40 minutes yet, hope you won’t mind the wait.”

“Not at all. We, uh, weren’t sure if we should bring anything, so we went ahead and did anyway,”  Sam held up a bottle of red wine, something cheap and bought at a convenience store by the looks of it.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” she took the drink before gesturing to the hooks on the wall, “please, make yourselves at home. Sitting room is that way,” they followed her guiding finger, “I’ll join you in a moment, let me go give this to Hannibal.”

Back in the kitchen now, “At least they made an effort,” was all Lecter had to say about their selection of wine. He set the bottle into a bucket full of ice before reaching for a platter of various finger foods, “Would you mind taking this to them, Alana? Please and thank you?”

The woman took the tray with a smirk, “I’m not your waitress, you know,” then made her way out of the kitchen to join the boys in the sitting room.

The brothers were peering around at the walls and decorations when Alana stepped in and spoke up, “He has a unique style, doesn’t he? Could keep myself busy for hours just looking at everything.” She set the tray down then sat on one of the two couches and smiled at Dean as he came over to join her, sitting a little closer than he normally would. “I see you two dressed up for the evening.”

The men weren’t in tuxedos, which would have been an overkill, but they weren’t in their regular, country-boy type apparel, either. Tonight they had on a nice pair of slacks, both of them black, Dean accompanying his with a crisp, white dress shirt, Sam’s a pastel blue. Of course their rugged style still slipped through though, their sleeves rolled up to their elbows and the first few buttons of their shirts undone. Alana thought they had pulled it off well.

“Will seems to be improving,” better open on a cheery tone, or as cheery as the topic at hand could get, “now that he knows I sought help for him -- bringing in both of you -- he’s starting to open up to me again.”

Dean nodded, “That’s good. I’m glad we’re helping, at least a little bit.” They all looked over to the door when Hannibal came through it, just buttoning up his suit jacket; Dean blurts out before the older man can even greet them, “Hey, doc.”

Alana knows that the smile Hannibal gives is forced. She watches as their host for the evening steps over to shake the boys’ hands, “Sam, Dean. I’m glad you could join us. I hope your first meal with me will not be disappointing.”

Easing into a gentle conversation, the topic of Will Graham rises quickly but is cut short by the dinging of the kitchen timer. They all stand when Hannibal instructs, “Please, make your way into the dining room and have a seat. Dinner will be served shortly.” Alana offers to help but is denied, Hannibal insisting that she keeps their guests company.

“So, how do you know Dr. Lecter?” The Winchester sat across from Alana, closer to the fireplace, while the head of the table was reserved for the man in question. Dean fiddled with his fork and eyed her intently, waiting for her response.

His gaze was a little strong, causing Alana to shift in her seat prior to taking a deep breath, “He was my mentor during my residency at John Hopkins. We’ve been good friends ever since, frequently coming to each other for help or advice.”

“And how does Will know him?”

“I referred Hannibal to him. Jack Crawford, director of the Behavior Analysis Unit at the FBI, wanted me to give Will a psychological evaluation, but I refused due to our relationship and suggested Hannibal do so instead.” Alana halted her story when Hannibal himself strolled in, expertly balancing four plates upon his arms, setting them in front of his dinner guests without spilling a drop.

“A Brive-style braised rabbit, common in southern France. Includes plum tomatoes and porcini mushrooms, along with roasted potatoes and light greens, and the wine you gentlemen gifted to me this evening to help ease it down,” he sat in his seat at the head of the table and poured them their drinks before raising his glass for a toast, “to William Graham.”

“To William Graham.”

They were only a few bites in when Dean praised the meal, “This is amazing. I haven’t had this hearty of stew in a long time,” glances over at Sam, “not since that one time dad made that leftover, mixed-pot shit when we were out hunt--” Alana raised a brow when Sam gave a forced smile to his brother who jumped a little in his seat, face turning read before mumbling a quiet, “nevermind,” eyes fixed intently on his dinner plate.

The two psychiatrists in the room shared a concerned glance but didn’t comment, Hannibal changing the topic to their common thread instead, “Do you two think Will will be stable enough to testify in court in three weeks time?”

“We’re not sure,” Sam sighed and rested his elbows on the edge of the table, “we’re still talking with him, and there are a few things we need to follow up on.” He turns to Alana then, voice softening, “there’s just no way to know at this time.”

The rest of their meal was like that, filled with uncertain talk about the man behind bars, Alana raising her voice once or twice in his defense. Conversation eventually died off not long after they were finished eating dessert, Dean breaking the silence, “Well, I think Sammy and I here are going to head out. We have stuff to do back at the motel.”

They all stood and exchanged handshakes, Alana following the two to the door to bid them farewell. “Please tell Hannibal again that the food was fantastic,” Sam smiled down at her before glancing over at Dean then back to the woman, “I’ll, uh, go out to the car.”

Once they were alone, Dean stepped forward and rested a hand on Alana’s side when he leaned down to kiss her cheek, “Thanks for the nice evening, Alana. I had a great time.” Now he was the one whose cheeks were red, stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets, “I’ll see you again soon?”

“Of course,” she had her hands clasped in front of her, trying to contain the grin tugging on her lips, “I had a good time, too. Thank you for coming.”

“No problem,” Dean took his coat from the rack, giving a light laugh and taking Sam’s as well. Alana had the door open for him and he stepped outside, half raising her hand in a goodbye, which he returned.

It didn’t take Alana long to leave after helping Hannibal clean up, sitting in her car a moment before pulling out. She saw him peering at her from the living room window and for a split second she could have sworn the man had transformed into Will's so-called beast, antlers sprouting from into the air above him. With a shake of her head the vision was gone, a normal man observing her as he made sure she left without any difficulties; she gave a small wave and backed out of his driveway to head for home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not an overly eventful chapter, but it was needed to help the plot along.


	3. Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Alana enjoy a nice dinner together.

The bar was loud, the noise of the TVs and of the people making it very difficult to hear. Alana in her friends huddled on one side, giggling as they finished off their third drinks.

Her friends had been worried about her, said that she was wrapping herself up in this case too much, that she had to get out and live a little, so she did just to make them quiet for a while. She was having a nice time, but she felt disconnected from the other two girls, left out of the loop of gossip they were currently discussing.

Glancing over to the door, Alana felt her heart give a happy flutter as she recognized a familiar face step in; Dean. “I’ll be back in a bit,” the girls didn’t even hear her, let alone see her leave.

It’s been a few days since they last saw each other at Hannibal house, Alana preparing Will’s case while the boys trying to figure out this wendigo thing. Seeing him again made her happier than she thought it would have, her smile wide while she snaked her way over.

He was up against the bar now, ordering himself a drink when Alana slid in beside him, their arms pressed together in the tight space, “Hi.”

There was a look of confusion that passed over his face when he turned to her voice, followed by recognition; “Hey! Didn’t expect to run into you here, of all places.”

“My friends dragged me out. Told me I needed to socialize, yet are so use to me not being here that they’re in their own little world,” she glanced over at them before turning around and resting back against the bar, elbows on either side of her for support, “why are _you_ here?”

“Somethin’ to do, I guess. Get a beer, relax, check out some chicks--” he forgot that it was Alana standing there with him, not his brother. “Sorry. Sammy usually is here with me. Becomes a habit.”

She nodded, a smile on her face as she watched the bottle in her hand. “Do you want to get a table? A little cramped up here, noisy...”

“Uh, sure. I’d like that,” the heels of his boots made quiet thuds on the floor as he slid off his stool with a smile, taking her hand to be led through the crowd of people and into the seating area. It didn’t take them long to find a table in back where it was a little less rowdy. “How’s this?”

“Perfect,” she hadn’t let go of his hand when they sat, and realized so after a few seconds of him smirking at her; she pulled it back and set it in her lap, “Sorry.”

“Nothing wrong with it. You’re skin is soft, warm--” the compliment was interrupted by a waiter coming over to take their order, Dean politely requesting an appetizer platter and two glasses of whiskey before Alana could even protest.

“I hope you know we’re going dutch.”

“Nope, it’s on me. I can guarantee I’ll eat most of it anyway.”

“We’ll see.” Alana made a note of the five in her pocket, planning to sneak it out later. “Question, just so we can establish boundaries; is this a date?”

“Do you want it to be?”

She stopped her tongue before it spat out ‘yes’. Drawing in a slow breath, her eyes fell to the table top, “Well, with Will...”

“No offense or anything, but you know Will probably isn’t going to get out of that place. His mind... it’s all scrambled. And with Hannibal...”

Her defenses rose slightly at the mention of colleague, eyebrows coming together, “What about him?”

Dean shook his head and leaned back against the booth, running a hand over his jaw. He knew he couldn’t tell her what him and his brother thought the man was, a supernatural beast. No, he couldn’t put her in harms way like that. Instead, he changed the subject, “A date with you would be nice.”

The alcohol in her system made the subject jump tolerable, and the butterflies in her stomach feel like they were fluttering through her whole body, a wide grin showing her delight, “Fine. Date it is.”

Their order arrived then, Alana taking a sip of her whiskey before picking up a single mozzarella stick and setting it on her napkin. Dean pulled the whole dish closer to him, using it as his personal plate, getting a small laugh from her, “What? Don’t make fun of my eating habits. Sam and I don’t get a lot these days, not on the road.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Dean,” she couldn’t explain why she was laughing though, she simply found it amusing that he claimed practically the whole plate for himself.

The laughing continued; it wasn’t obnoxious, it made Dean smile, actually, and her little nose scrunched up which he found adorable as hell. When the woman leaned over the table and covered her mouth, tried to calm down, he finally asked, “Are you drunk?” The question pulled a fresh round of giggles from her as she glanced away, embarrassed with herself. “I’m gonna take that as a yes...”

Finally the moment passed and she put her hands palm down on the table, smirking, “Of course I’m drunk! Do you really think my friends would let me _not_ be drunk?” With that, she snatched up another mozzarella stick and took a bite.

“Well, you’re cute when you’re drunk, all giggly like that.”

“You saying I’m not--”

“Don’t even go there,” he let out his own chuckle, “I think you know the answer to that anyway.”

“I do, I see the way you glance at me, Dean. I’m not blind.”

“Yeah?” He held up one of the buffalo wings and pointed it at her, “Speaking of glancing, I saw that once over you gave me when we met you at that park. You gave it to my brother, too.”

The pink that was already her cheeks became more prominent, “Well, yeah! I had to check and see what I was getting myself into.” He raised an eyebrow and that’s when she noticed her poor choice of words, “I was making sure you two weren’t going to... jump me or something.”

“I know what you meant, I was just teasing,” Alana gave him a gentle kick under the table and held her tongue between her teeth as she smiled, something she only did when she was tipsy.

The two looked up at the bar as a chorus of cheers rang out, something to do with the game that was on one of the plasmas. “I don’t know why I came here tonight,” she was thinking out loud now, eyes watching her friends from the distance as they hooted and hollered at the TV, “I never really liked bars.”

“We wouldn’t be on this ‘date’ if you hadn’t have come,” his comment was accompanied by a smirk and a glance over at her friends, “I’m glad they made you.”

A soft shrug, then a wince when her name was called out across the bar, “Oh, god. We looked at them for too long.” Dean seemed to be pleased, though, smiling as the other two ladies came trotting over to them.

“Alana! So this is where you snuck off to...”

“Dean, this is Misty. Misty, Dean.”

“Don’t sound so enthused, ‘Lana. It’s a pleasure to meet you, _Deeean_.” Alana shook her head, the pair of women even more drunk than herself.

“‘Lana, huh?” Dean took the girl’s outstretched hand and gave it shake, along with a small wink, “I’ll have to call her that now.”

“Please don’t,” embarrassment was rising in her again, her want to melt away into the back of the booth rapidly increasing.

Her other friend stepped forward and gave a little bow, a groan coming from Alana at the gesture, “Since no one is going to introduce me, I’m Rebecca.” The other three didn’t seem to notice when Alana requested the bill and a box.

Dean had scooted over to allow the girls room to sit down. Somehow they were all able to squeeze on to that one seat, even if Misty was practically sitting on his lap. She didn’t seem to mind though, and neither did Dean.

Alana was left out of the loop, again, as the three of them chatted, the girls gushing over Dean and asking him a million questions. The waiter came over at one point and gave Alana her box and the bill, chuckling at the pile-up on Dean’s side of the booth before walking away.

Halfway through packing up what remained of the appetizers, she froze when she heard Rebecca’s question to Dean, “Are you going to take her home? _Woo_ her? She really needs it, you know.”

“Becca!”

“It’s true ‘Lana! You haven’t had sex since, what? College? You need to _get some_!”

“Oh my god,” Alana didn’t want to hear this, hurrying her efforts to get the food in the box.

Dean could feel the unease radiating off of his date and took one final swig of his drink before speaking up, “Hey, ladies? I think Ms. Bloom and I here are going to get going now,” the women glanced at each other, trying to hide their smirks, “if you could let me up, please.”

Alana scooted from her seat, placed her five on top of the bill only to have it get shoved back in her hand once Dean was standing, her fingers curling around his. He tucked her head next to hers, spoke softly, “I said I’d pay.”

“It’s already out, let’s just go,” without even saying goodbye to her friends, Alana grabbed the box of food, gave the waiter her money, and beelined for the exit, Dean not far behind.

The women watched the two go before standing up and shouting, “Get some, girl!” Alana flipped them off on her way out the door.

 

* * *

Their ride was mostly quiet, after Alana’s initial apologizing about her friends, at least. She had a headache and ended up resting her head against the window for most of the trip, eyes closed as Dean drove her the short distance to her house in his ‘67 Impala that seemed to be rocking her to sleep.

She could tell they were home when he started his slow drive up her lengthy driveway, the noise from the main road fading as they slipped further into the trees. Dean looked over her spacey front yard, the trees that enclosed the property, “You have a beautiful home, Alana.”

Sitting up now, she yawned and gave her own place a once over, “My parents bought it for me after I graduated. Said that the landscape would relax me in ‘the stresses of life yet to come’,” her eyes landed on the balcony outside of her bedroom, the one that she spent many a mornings on, “they were right.”

Finally they pulled up in front of the garage, her own SUV parked inside. The house loomed in front of them, its three stories and brick exterior giving it a nice, outer-city vibe.

The two exited the car, Dean walking around to her side to make sure she got out okay, catching her as she stumbled slightly, “How many drinks did you have tonight?”

“Mm, four? I think, maybe five,” her hands still gripped Dean’s forearms even though she was steadied, forcing him to step closer as she sat back on the hood of the car. “Haven’t drank this much in a while.”

“You gonna be okay for the night?” She didn’t notice him shuffle even closer, her eyes half closed.

“Should be. Morning though, not so sure about that.” The two of them gave an airy laugh, Alana’s turning into more of a giggle when Dean’s knees pressed against her own. “You know, my friends were right back there.”

“About what?”

She let go of his arms and placed her palms behind her on the warm metal, thinking nothing of his hands that lowered to rest on either side of her thighs, just above her knees. A smile spread across her face as he watched his thumbs brush against the hem of her jeans, “I haven’t had sex in years. Too focused on work.”

“Yeah?” Alana’s stomach tingled at the grin he gave her, the touch of his hands on her legs sending sparks up them. “Any particular reason you’re bringing it up?”

She sat up straight again, clasping her hands together and resting them between her slightly parted knees, “Just... thinking, is all.” Blue eyes sparkling up at him, along with the playful smile she was wearing.

Her breath froze in her lungs as Dean did what she had hoped he would, closing the distance between them to kiss her softly, a hand threading through her loose hair to cradle the back of her head.

His mouth tasted like whiskey and barbeque sauce, lips gentle as they slid over hers with ease; he’s had plenty of practice, that she was sure of. The fabric of his shirt was pliable under her fingers as she pulled him closer, tugging on his bottom lip.

All too quickly it was over, Dean pulling away and leaving Alana gasping. Their foreheads met and he sighed, “You’re drunk, Alana. We shouldn’t do this.”

The woman scooted closer to the edge of the car, legs parting to allowing Dean to step between them, “Can I tell you something? About what I felt when you kissed me just there, and when I first saw you?” He gave a nod. “You remind me of my college days, the early ones when I was still excited and happy and just... _reckless_.” He moved his hand up to brush aside her curls, “Dean, let’s be reckless.”

“Mmm, maybe next time, sweetheart, when we’re sober. Not gonna disrespect you like that...” That drew a disappointed whine from her, but he shushed her with his lips, “Come on, let’s get you inside, get you to bed.”

“Such a gentleman -- oh!” In one swift movement, Dean had her petite body in his arms, carrying her up to the back door of the house, “you’re gonna need keys.”

“Got ‘em,” he jangled them from one hand and put the appropriate one in the lock, chucking as Alana patted her now empty pocket with wide eyes.

He huffed when she slapped his chest and mockingly scolded him, “Stay out of my pants!”

“Never,” she found herself on her kitchen island next, Dean’s lips attacking her neck, making sure to leave marks. Her giggles bounced around the kitchen just as the group of dogs did around Dean’s feet, barking at the strange man. “Didn’t know you had pets,” he looked down at the numerous mutts, petted a few heads.

“They’re Will’s. I’m babysitting.”

He glanced up with a raise brown, “Gonna be babysitting a long while.”

Whatever mood they had been in, it was broken now. Dean stepped back as Alana slid off the counter, “Let’s go outside, come on, let’s go potty before bed.”

Dean’s arm around her midsection stopped her from heading to the door, “Let me. You go on up and get ready for bed.” She didn't argue, thanking him before heading upstairs.

Once Alana was in her pajamas, teeth brushed and makeup off, she stood on her balcony and watched the Winchester play with Will’s dogs, chase a few of them around and chuck tennis balls deep into the yard. The sight made her smile, and in that moment, it clicked.

Will wasn’t coming back.

It hit her like a truck, tears springing in her eyes and her mouth hanging open.

_Will wasn’t coming back._

He could even be given the federal death sentence, if things got that bad.

She couldn’t think about that though, not right now, not with her wall so low and all this alcohol swimming through her system, she couldn’t.

But she did, of course, that was her things. Alana could hear Will’s words fill her head as they stood in the middle of his living room, soot on his hands from the chimney he tore apart, “ _You have to stop_ thinking _so much_.”

Dean could hear her crying from the kitchen; taking two steps at a time, he found her in her room, curled up on her bed as she cried, “Hey, shh.” He scooped her up, held her close, “It’s alright, you’re okay.”

She held on to him for dear life, like he was an anchor that would keep her from spiraling into the whirlwind of emotions that were spinning about her head. He stayed there with her until she calmed, gently asking what was wrong; he voice was small, fragile, “I finally realized that Will isn’t coming back.”

“No, he’s not,” no sense in sugar coating things. “Something snapped in him, Alana. Wendigo or no wendigo, that man’s just messed up.” It was harsh, but it was the truth.

Sniffling, Alana sat up and gave him a curious look, “What do you mean, ‘wendigo or no wendigo’?”

Oh shit. “Um, nothing, I’m... I’m just talking, you know, about how he thinks Lecter isn’t human.” That was good enough for her, thank god, the woman nodding before lowering herself back down onto the bed, in his arms.

“Will you stay here tonight?” She already had her eyes closed and her voice was laced with sleep.

“I can’t, ‘Lana--”

“--don’t call me that--”

“--I have to get back to Sam, we still have some things we want to check out.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, when you’ll be able to remember,” a lie, since she probably wouldn’t remember this conversation in the morning.

“I’m going to go see him tomorrow, Will. You can come if you want.”

“That sounds great, baby,” he untangled himself from her reluctantly, but still sat there on the bed so he could bid her goodnight. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Call me when you’re ready.”

“Mhm,” he was patting over her curls, lulling her to sleep, “Lock up on your way out, mkay?”

“Okay,” his lips were soft against her temple, “Goodnight.”

“Night...”

She was out in an instant, it seemed, Dean still petting her hair as she drifted off. He stayed there for a little while longer, watching her while he thought about how close he had come to messing everything up, to getting her involved in something she had no business being involved in.

One more kiss before he left her room, a belly rub to every dog before he left her house, the doors, and windows just to be safe, locked tight.

Dean couldn’t help but think of Lisa on the drive back to his motel, how much all this reminded him of when he settled with her and Ben for a while. That had been a learning opportunity for him; now he knew that the Apple Pie Life wasn’t for him, no matter how bad he wanted it, and that he’d have to keep his distance from Alana, keep her safe.

Thankfully tonight would all be a blur to her in the morning, or so he hoped. Yes, she’d probably still remember the date, him taking her home, but beyond that? Unlikely. Which was for the best, their feelings towards each other remaining borderline professional until he could get this case wrapped up and get out of town, get away from her.

A disgruntled sigh was all Dean could give when he put Baby in park and noticed Alana’s take home box still in the front seat, along with his five dollars that he tried to sneak back to her.

Looking up, he saw Sam peek at him through the blinds in their room, give him a small smile. Dean smiled back, keeping it until the blinds closed. He rolled his shoulders, pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, and grabbed the box before heading inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teaser for next time: Dean and Alana visit Will while Sam has another chat with Dr. Lecter.
> 
> Also it's late; let me know about any inconsistencies, please and thank you!
> 
> tumblr/twitter: grahamblooming


	4. Court

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's trial.

Will’s day in court arrived quicker than they all would have liked. None of them were completely prepared, not really, but they did their best.

Alana sat in the front row beside Dean, Sam on the other side of him. The brothers seemed anxious almost, like they didn’t want to be here, but Alana felt the same and couldn’t blame them.

She had been sick with worry last night, calling Dean and asking if he could come over for a while, which he did. They ended up on the couch, Alana’s head on his lap, asleep. He was gone when she woke, finding a note on the counter, “See you in court tomorrow, -Dean.”

Now they sat side by side as they waited for things to get under way, for Will to be brought in. Dean took the woman’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before they both looked up at the door, Alana dropping his hand and standing as Will was ushered through.

This was the first time she’d seen him in a little over a week; Will’s defense attorney, Leonard Braver, prohibited her from visiting in fear that he’d get too worked up, “It’d be best for him to try and sort through the mess of his mind by himself.” She disagreed, of course, but thankfully Sam and Dean were still allowed to see him, but what they talked about exactly, she didn’t know.

Will was wearing his suit, face clean-shaven with glasses perched on his nose. His hair was a birdsnest, though, longer than normal and his curls frizzy. “Will,” Alana leaned against the railing, trying to get the man’s attention, but he kept his gaze turned down and remained quiet as he took his seat.

His trial started almost immediately, the judge entering and the opening statements getting read. Alana was staring at the back of Will’s head, which didn’t move an inch, not even when Braver leaned over to talk to him.

It was a long day, the only defining moment being when Sam and Dean were called onto the stand to testify. Their first question was if they were in any way connected to the Sam and Dean Winchester back from that thing in St. Louis; Sam was up first, giving a polite smile and shaking his head, “We have no relation to them, not that we know of, at least.”

“Even though you look exactly alike?”

Dean thanked God (or whoever was running things now) for Sam’s law knowledge, which wiggled them out of this quickly and turned things back to Will and his case.

“It says here that you and your brother are... ‘mythological experts.’ Now why would Will Graham be needing help from someone who specializes in fairy tales?”

The question was posed to Dean, who rolled his jaw in annoyance before taking a breath and answering, “We were contacted by Dr. Alana Bloom in regards to Mr. Graham referring to his psychiatrist, Dr. Hannibal Lecter, as a Wendigo.”

“Oh, and would you be so kind as to ex--”

Cutting her off, Dean all but rolled his eyes as he explained what the creature was, how it related back to Will and why he might think that Hannibal is one.

“You’re talking about this creature like it actually exists, Mr. Winchester.”

Alana saw Sam shift beside her, roll his shoulders a bit. Dean gave the woman a sarcastic grin, “My apologies, ma’am.”

She nods, asks him some more questions about Will, Hannibal, and the Chesapeake Ripper, all of which Dean has a hard time answering since he didn’t know enough about all of this.

Eventually the day is done, the three of them drained. Alana was already worried about the next day, which is when she would take the stand, but Dean assured her that she’d be fine, that this will all be done with before she knows it, and what happens, happens.

* * *

Alana is the first one up to testify the next day, her hands shaking as she folds them in her lap. The first question after her introduction and formalities is the exact same one she was most afraid of, “Is it true that your relationship with the defendant was, at one point, a romantic relationship?”

“That is true, but I no longer have any romantic feelings for Will Graham.” So much for not lying under oath.

“What made you change your mind, Dr. Bloom?”

“Personal reasons that I wish to remain undisclosed.”

There’s an objection, but the judge overrules it, allowing Alana her privacy.

They move to the topic of Hannibal next and her relationship with him, and what she believes the relationship to be between him and Will. They’re all tedious questions, really, ones she’s prepared for and answered a thousands times in her own home, figuring out what would be the most effective thing to say.

As soon as they’re done, they call for a half hour recess for lunch, Alana heading out to call Dean and tell him how it went. Just hearing the sound of his voice soothed her and made her smile, but that all vanished when she saw a dark colored Bentley pull up to the courthouse and Hannibal step out, “Oh my god, they’re bringing Hannibal in.”

Alana hangs up without another word, hurrying down the steps and over to the psychiatrist as he emerges from his car, “Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here.” She was worried about what his presence in the courtroom would do to Will, if it would send him into one of his manic episodes.

Hannibal gave her a look, one she recognized from when ever he scrutinized someone for being rude, “It’s nice to see you too, Ms. Bloom.”

She wasn’t in the mood for any of this, reaching out to grab his hand as he went to pocket his keys, “You need. To leave.”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve been summoned to testify.” He shakes her hand lose, “Now, would you like to accompany me inside?”

Her blood was boiling, which was evident in her clenched jaw and stern voice, “They can’t do that! They know the mental state he gets in when he sees you!”

“I think that’s the point, Alana.” It’s not until he takes a few steps up towards the courthouse that he realizes she isn’t following, doing a double take to turn around and see her standing at the bottom, “Alana? Everything alright?”

Staring off at nothing, the woman tries to figure out why they would be doing this, why they would be switching tactics all of a sudden. Suddenly she springs to life, quickly jogging up the stairs past Hannibal and into the courthouse, on the hunt for Braver.

Having been in court plenty of times, she knew right where Will is being held with his attorney.

The guard could’ve easily stopped her but yet in she barges, interrupting whatever they were talking about, “Why is Hannibal here?” The men look up, Leonard waving off the guard that only now appears in the doorway.

“We’re, uh... We’ve decided to go from pleading not guilty to pleading insanity.” Absolute silence, Braver glancing down at Will for a moment before speaking up again with a soft voice, “Alana, we all know that the not guilty thing is only going to get him the death penalty, there’s too much evidence against him. Adding insanity allows him to live.”

Alana leaves the room on the verge of crying, heading into the restroom. She texts Dean, “Bringing Hannibal in, they’re adding an insanity plea.” He shows up to the courthouse not long after, Alana bursting into tears as soon as she gets in his car. Dean holds her close, shushes her and rubs her back, tells her to let it all out.

When she heads back inside, Dean right next to her, her puffy eyes are the only signs that she’s been crying. Dean notices how tense she is, sitting with her back straight and her jaw locked. Not even a gentle rub to her knee loosens her up.

Murmurs go about the courtroom when Hannibal is called in, Will dipping his head down to look at the table. All is going well, Hannibal answering his questions as best he can, until Alana notices the curls of Will’s hair quivering just the slightest, “Oh no.”

Dean watches as she leans forward, tries to grab Braver’s attention, but it’s too late. Will explodes, practically flying over the table as he screams and lunges for Hannibal. It’s all a blur then, Dean jumping up to hold a guard back as Alana rushes to Will to try and calm him.

As soon as Hannibal is escorted from the room, Will’s shouting turning to sobs. “It’s okay, it’s over, Will, it’s all over. Hannibal’s gone.” Everyone watches as he relaxes right into Alana’s shoulder, lets her escort him from the room. The judge adjourns the trial with a pending resume date. 

* * *

“The jury finds Will Graham not guilty by reasons of insanity.”

Alana saw it coming, but it still felt like a rock dropping in her gut. Will would incarcerated for the rest of his life, probably in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, much to Chilton’s joy. After talking to Jack, she would get the dogs and settle the rest of his affairs, such as selling his house and some of his possessions, putting some of the more personal things into storage. Finding his father to tell him about his son and give him his things was also on her hands, which she knew was going to be an immense weight upon her shoulders. 

* * *

Dean more than willingly stayed with Alana that night when she asked for him to, both of them heading to bed early and quickly falling asleep.

Waking up in the night, Alana notices the empty space beside her before hearing the TV downstairs. She puts the blanket around her shoulders and heads on down to find Dean stretched out along the couch. Giving him a small smile, she comes over and lays with him, her head on his chest and his arm around her, the two of them quietly watching TV until the light of morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there is anything incorrect regarding the courtroom procedures, PLEASE let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> dean-alana.tumblr.com


End file.
